


Evil as Sin

by WinchesterNimrod



Series: AU Drabbles [6]
Category: Free!
Genre: Gen, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:09:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterNimrod/pseuds/WinchesterNimrod
Summary: Makoto swallowed, turning back to face the rising sun drowned behind slabs of grey. His last sunrise as a human.
Series: AU Drabbles [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1256339
Kudos: 4





	Evil as Sin

Makoto screamed and found himself staring up at a grey sky. Something dark and ill skittered across his skin. Full, bulbous clouds hung still. Makoto saw a turtle in them, and laughed then sobbed and gasped under the loud sounds of crashing waves.

He was on a beach. Soaked in wet sand and the tide was tickling his feet. His bare, cold feet that were number than the dead.

A salty breeze touched his face as he sat. He had thrown up. Part of his baby blue shirt his little sister had gotten him for his birthday was painted from last night's meal. Makoto lowered his head into a hand. Mind and chest whirling in that soul chilling terror that ran beyond rational control. He was terrified.

Helpless.

Violated.

Briefly he fumbled getting up. Beginning in a slow crawl that grew steadily upright.

It hurt.

Makoto rubbed his eyes, insides quarrelling.

" _You'll do nicely." A skeletal face had told him last night._ _"My card is in your pocket - if you choose to live."_

His hand palmed his jeans pocket. Outlining of a small square sending a fresh wave of shudders. Makoto swallowed, turning back to face the rising sun drowned behind slabs of grey.

Last sunrise as a human.

.

Makoto knows he's forgetting something, but he can't….he can't think straight. The walk home barefoot had to have been the longest he's ever experienced. It was still early enough that nobody was awake to ask questions.

He could smell them. Hear their heartbeats, taste their dreams and feel their burning life.

"I'm disgusting," Makoto tells himself.

He took a shower.

Cleaned up.

Brushed his teeth and stared at his reflection.

He looked ill. Beautiful warm skin sucked dry.

A tingling finger grazed a canine tooth. Film of skin slicing clean. A single red bead slid down his arm. Followed by another and another until parted skin kissed back together.

Before blood never had a scent other than a neaseating copper tang - now it smelt like juicy pieces of pork sizzling on the stove. Slathered in butter and salt. Like he was five years old and walking past a bakery. Smelt of fresh dorayaki and steaming brown sugar coating rice balls.

Makoto felt like puking up whatever was left in his stomach.

.

Quelled, Makoto lingered by the open refrigerator.

Starving.

Gaze swerving away from fruit, vegetables, raw fish and other side dishes. He tried a glass of milk and almost threw up again. In eventuality, he found himself getting drawn towards a container of marinating beef.

In disgusted resignation, Makoto took the container to his room, locked his door and sat down against it. Picking out a thick slice coated in a soy marinate that coated his entire forearm.

Its vivid redness, full of blood sent Makotos' heart racing. Something inside him couldn't help but be excited. Aroused almost by the scent and touch of it. Finally, Makoto bit into. Shoving the wet, dribbling meat into his mouth and chewing. Everything exploded into warmth and light.

There was a roaring sound. Blood, its entire life of the animal he was eating was rushing through him in one, ecstasy filled ride. Soaking into his veins, cells - running in every part of himself filling with life.

Makotos' body slackened against the door. His lovely, throbbing body needing _more_.

He grabbed another piece. Juices dribbling down his mouth. Makoto ate and ate until there was nothing left but bits of the marinade - even that he gulped down. Bloodied leftovers coating his throat. Licking down every last bit. Satiation had never felt so good.

His mother's voice calls behind the door.

"Makoto ~ Weren't you supposed to pick up Haruka today?"

They were awake.

Makoto shoves the container under his bed. Mops his mouth and neck with the hem of his shirt. Revulsion sickening him by the second.

Words registering he choked.

"The send-off race. I forgot!"

.

[-Haru-]

[Are you still picking me up?]

[I'm leaving]

[I'm at the station with Rin and Nagisa.]

[Where are you?]

[Did you forget?]

[ _Makoto_ ]

[Answer me Makoto]

.

Makoto ran to the station, tie loosened and parka floating in his fist. Typically, this running distance would have caused him some serious exhaustion. He arrived perfectly calm.

"Sorry!" He ran to the bus stop. Embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck and standing rock still in front of his silent teammates. "I totally slept in. Won't ever happen again, promise!" He bowed low. Peeking up through his hair when he didn't get a response.

"Makoto!" Nagisa finally broke and wailed. Collapsing into him with a hug. "We were so worried you weren't answering your texts!"

"Hmm, texts?" Makoto patted his pocket and grimaced. "I…lost my phone."

"Figured," Hary muttered. "You always respond."

"I was worried you got into an accident on your way to picking up Haru," confesses Rei. Patting him on the back. Smile relieved. "I'm glad to know you just forgot."

"Uh, sorry."

"Stop apologising," Haru nudges him. "Just don't do it again."

He waves a limp wrist in a mock salute. "Aye aye."

"Great," Rei cheers, checking his watch. "By my calculations the next bus will arrive any minute now."

.


End file.
